Over there against the wall
my rusted friend, forlorn, forgot,
red ochre darkened by the rain
where once shone silver sun.
Sad, he lies in weed,
a steed I once rode wild.
We laughed upon the wind
when life was young, and I.
My rust, my ageing form,
much akin, he and I.
We sped, we thrilled and spilled
our youth upon the dust.
No more my mount of dreams.
No more imaginings where space
and time dance dizzily.
No more my youth and no more us.
Goodbye old friend
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Old Friend by George Dudley )
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Alone, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
- Heather Burns
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)